


Entropy

by indraaas



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, ShiSaku Weekend 2020, medic!shisui, poor itachi this guy is recovering from The Plague and has to deal with this, there's so much chaotic energy in this fic and it's equal parts shisui and sakura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26041606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indraaas/pseuds/indraaas
Summary: For Shisui, the worst part about this mission is that Sakura's going to be stuck in Kumo for two months. For Sakura, the worst part is she's going to be stuck in Kumo for two months, and Shisui's going to be running the hospital.  No, seriously.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Shisui
Comments: 36
Kudos: 73





	1. soulmate

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I'm a day late for ShiSaku Weekend but you know what diamonds are made under pressure or whatever the saying is. The three days are interconnected, so come back tomorrow for. Whatever the prompt is, I don't remember lmfao.
> 
> I don't own Naruto.

“Sakura.”

“Hm?”

“Sakura, look.”

“That’s nice.”

“You’re not looking!”

“Busy.”

“Sakura, _look_!”

“Goddamn, I swear on your precious eyeballs - Shisui!” Sakura screeches, snapping the pen in her hand in half. Red ink splatters on the desk, virtually indistinguishable from the blood dripping from his palm. 

“What the _hell_. Why didn’t you say you were bleeding or something?” she scolds, summoning healing chakra to her hand, reaching for his. Shisui swats her away with his uninjured hand.

“‘Cause you always think I’m joking when I do!”

“Because half the time you _are_.”

“Okay, but this time it’s for real. That’s not the point, look what I can do!” Shisui chirps, clasping his hands together as if in prayer. For a fraction of a second Sakura thinks he’s actually trying to _pray the injury away_ or something equally asinine, but then she looks closer and realizes his hands are glowing Mystical Palm green. 

A few seconds pass before he stops and rubs his hands clean on his shirt (Sakura winces, knowing full-well he’s not going to wash that until he’s out of clothes to wear), and then holds them out for inspection like a cat presenting a dead mouse to its owner. It’s with the same feeling of dread as the owner that Sakura takes his hand between both of hers, ready to remove scar tissue - without anaesthetic, because she’s feeling petty this fine Sunday.

To her surprise, there’s no scar tissue. There’s barely even a _scar_ , just a line that you can sort of see if you twist his hand at a bone-breaking angle under the light.

“What the hell,” Sakura intones. “You didn’t use your Sharingan. What the hell.”

Shisui is exceptionally chipper for a guy who has his wrist twisted nearly a hundred and eighty degrees by the girl rumoured to lace her toothpaste with bone dust. “It’s one of the side effects of our bond! ‘Cause we’re soul-mates-” her heart _still_ goes all non-shockable rhythm when he says that out loud, “-I can use your chakra, kinda. Well, not really your chakra, but I have an easier time using your techniques.”

Sakura thinks back to Friday training, humming. This explains why her Shunshin was fast enough to take _Sasuke_ by surprise. She takes a second to bask in the afterglow of that mental image: Sasuke, flat on his ass, jaw dropped somewhere near the bottom of one of her signature craters, as Sakura slips past his prized Chidori Nagashi completely unscathed.

“Earth to Sakura.” Shisui snaps his fingers. “C’mon, you know what this means.”

“You’ll stop bothering me about minor injuries and heal them yourself?” Sakura guesses - prays, really. It’s one thing to ask for a healing hand every once in a while, and another thing entirely to write sonnets in iambic pentameter about how a strained muscle is going to be the end of his shinobi career as he knows it in the middle of the hospital when she’s working. 

“Nope.” Shisui’s grin is razor sharp and way, way, _way_ too innocent around the edges for her liking. “It means Shunshin no Shisui is turning a new leaf. I’m gonna be a medic-nin and train all the newbies!”

“Absolutely the fuck not.”

“Absolutely the fuck _yes_.”

* * *

“Alright, field medics! What’s the first thing we do when we enter a scene?”

“Heal!”

“Incorrect! We check out the…”

“Environment!”

“For what?”

“Threats to our person because field medics aren’t allowed to fight unless you’re Sakura-sama, Hokage-sama, and then sometimes Shizune-sama.”

“And me, Uchiha Shisui, because…?”

“You’re Shunshin no Shisui of the Uchiha clan, and there’s nothing on this planet that can pose a threat to you!”

“Exactly!” Shisui fistbumps the Hyuuga gunner, who flushes neon red and regards her hand with a look that fills Sakura with equal parts trepidation and deja vu. _Goddamn_ , what is it with the Uchiha and converting every living human they so much as _breathe_ near into a fangirl? Sakura suddenly gets why Tobirama sequestered them off to the fuckends of the village: any closer and there would be home invasions and riots and more restraining orders doled out than physically enforceable. 

“If you listen to anything he says, I’ll _personally_ see to it you all are doing nothing but collecting vitals for every team we’re dispatched to treat,” Sakura says sweetly as she sidles up next to him and lays a glowing hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, Sakura-chan, I know I mentioned my shoulder was hurting earlier, but your chakra is blue…”

“Is it?” Her grip tightens imperceptibly. “I had _no idea_. What colour is it supposed to be _medic-san_?”

“Green,” the Hyuuga kid says immediately. 

“I’m doing such a good job of training them,” Shisui coos, and Sakura only has a second to realize he’s broken free of her grip - fucking _Uchiha’s_ \- before he draws her in for a hug that has her back cracking. She wants to kick him to Iwa so that blond bomber can have some fun blowing him back, but he smells of ozone and hugging him feels like falling asleep in trees during the summer, so she makes a noise of protest as she buries her face in his high-collar and shrugs. 

Let it be known that she did _try_ , technically.

“This is my soulmate, by the way!” Shisui informs them even though it’s as common knowledge as the fact that the sky is blue and their Hokage has a drinking problem (but ask her and it’s only a drinking problem once she passes off the mantle - right now it’s a coping mechanism).

“Your soulmate is _Sakura-sama_?” one of the civilian-born shinobi says, stars in his eyes. “You are so _lucky_.”

“Tell me about it.”

(Sakura shoos the trainees off to do readings and waits until they’ve rounded the corner to give Shisui a _very_ not safe for work kiss that promises all sorts of revenge down the line.

 _Uchiha’s._ )

* * *

“You’re sending me to _Kumo_ for two months?” Sakura repeats slowly, rubbing the backs of her ears to break up the wax that’s _clearly_ building up because there is _no way_ her beloved, brilliant, benevolent, insert-your-B-word-of-choice-here Tsunade-shishou spoke that into existence.

“You’re sending her to Kumo for _two months_?” Shisui wails.

“I’m sending you to Kumo for two months,” Tsunade confirms.

“This is a terrible idea, shishou. We can barely find coverage for shifts now, what will happen once I leave?” Sakura reasons, trying (and failing) to hide her growing panic at the thought of going to _Kumo_ of all places. It’s not that she hates all of Kumo, but there are just some people there who she prefers were located in, say Tsuchi. Very specifically, six feet under Tsuchi.

_“The next time you step foot in Kumo, be prepared. I’ll have more poisons ready than you can dream of.”_

Tsunade looks at her like she knows exactly who she’s thinking of and says sternly, “Sakura, you _cannot_ start an international incident with Kumo because C said something to piss you off. We’re just barely getting over Sasuke and what he said to the Mizukage.”

“In our defense, Zabuza-san _was_ kinda asking for it,” Shisui pipes up, stepping behind Sakura as if she can block the killing intent from hitting him. Like he’s not a whole foot and a quarter (he insists on the quarter distinction) taller than her and still in Tsunade’s line of sight. 

“Can you believe there was a time I considered you for Hokage?”

“Good thing you didn’t, ‘cause now I can just take over all of Sakura-chan’s shifts while she’s gone!” 

“He’s not trained as a medic-nin,” Sakura points out, hoping her shishou looks at her eyes and manages to translate the widening to mean ‘this is a terrible idea, he will leave all the paperwork to you, and he will try to mouth pipette everything in pathology’.

Tsunade just looks mildly concerned as she says, “Sakura, are you on drugs? Stop bulging your eyes like that or they’ll get stuck that way. Unlike your soulmate, we can’t just get your cousins to swap eyeballs with you at the drop of a hat.”

“I’d trade eyeballs with you if you needed them, Sakura-chan,” Shisui says seriously, and the thing is Sakura knows this is one of those deranged Uchiha shows of affection, like how Mikoto-san lacing Fugaku-san’s tea with poison ‘to keep him on his toes’ is apparently their way of _flirting_ , but it still kind of freaks her out when he says it like that and _means it_.

“Listen, Sakura, he’s not a medic-nin, but from what my sources tell me-”

“Jiraiya-sama is _not_ a reliable source when it comes to _this_.”

“I meant Maiko from the nursing union, but the point is, he’s worked some miracles. He cured a case of cysticercosis all by himself,” Tsunade says proudly. Shisui preens under her attention until Sakura elbows him so he’s not pressed up against her back (he pouts - _Uchiha’s_ ), whirling around to pin him with a flat glare.

“Who had cysticercosis? And when did you treat them?”

“Patient confidentiality, Sakura-chan!” Shisui bops her on the nose.

Sakura bops him on the nose just hard enough that it may or may not bruise in the morning. “I say this because we need to track down the infection to make sure there’s no more outbreaks. Which is something you would know _if you were trained as a medic-nin_.”

“I’ll get Itachi and we can go hunting in the morning!”

Something about the prospect of Uchiha Itachi trudging through pig farms to track parasites incites such a visceral, bone deep terror in her that she turns to Tsunade and says, “I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Shisui, predictably, pouts. “Can I use your office at least?”

“If he goes into my office you have permission to wipe him out. I can live without a soulmate.”

* * *

_Sakura-chaaaaaaaaan, I miss you. The hospital isn’t fun when I can’t bother you ‘cause any time I piss off one of the Hyuuga’s they just try and block my tenketsu points and Tsunade says if I start a Hyuuga v Uchiha battle for the honour AGAIN she’s gonna pull a Senju and find a way to make me regret my genes._

_Also, Itachi caught the plague. Like, the actual bubonic plague. I’m in charge of treating him ‘cause I can use your magic chakra control and Tsunade-sama thinks this is good practice._

_Anyway, stay safe in Kumo, if that blonde medic pisses you off you can use my Katon and turn him into Crispy C! ‘Cause we’re, wait for it, soulmates. And you can do that. Use my jutsu._

_Love you more than the sun loves the moon._

_Shisui._

“Itachi has the _bubonic plague_?!” Sakura shrieks, scaring a nearby medic-in-training so bad she spills what is very likely 13M HCl all over her arm. 

While her and her lab partner freak out and run for the chemical spill station, C smirks a little. “Konoha falling apart already? Figures. If I’d known it was so easy to take you lot out I would’ve had you brought over a lot sooner, Haruno.”

Sakura shoots him a dirty look that belies the sheer panic coursing through her veins. “My soulmate is a very capable medic-nin who can handle this, thank you very much. You can barely handle your own _lab_ , which is why I was sent over, isn’t it?”

Her glee at wiping his smug, butt-ugly mug clean is short-lived when it hits her that it takes a week for the post to get from Konoha to Kumo, so Shisui’s probably already tried curing him and _wow_ these lights really are bright, her head hurts. She needs to sit down. Maybe have a drink. Have a drink and then sit down.

C picks up the bottle of 70% isopropyl alcohol before she can reach for it. Asshole.

 _It’s okay_ , she comforts herself, bouncing her legs anxiously as she rereads the letter, _if Itachi died I would’ve heard of it by now. Plus, Tsunade-shishou is overseeing him. This is fine. He can do this. He might be a bit of an idiot, but he’s my idiot and he’s got my chakra control and oh my god, I need to go back._

Sakura flips the letter over and grabs one of the markers used for labels, writing ‘STREPTOMYCIN, 30 MG/KG/DAY UP TO 2 G/DAY’ in capitals, bolding, underlining, and then boxing it for good measure. Then, she bites her thumb and summons Katsuyu on the table, ignoring C’s disgust at her ‘violating the sterility’ of his lab. She rolls it up and allows Katsuyu to absorb the note (“That’s fucking disgusting,” C says flatly) before thanking her. Katsuyu makes a sort of trilling noise she thinks might be ‘you’re welcome’, and then poofs off to Konoha, leaving Sakura to heave a heavy sigh and glance at the calendar longingly. Two weeks down, six more to go.

“Hey, C, wanna spar?”

“...I’m not opposed.”

“Cool, because I have a jutsu I need to try out.”

* * *

This medic shit is _hard_. His fingers are constantly numb from using Mystical Palm, his chakra reserves feel like they’re trying to power Kotoamatsukami on a daily basis, and the _headaches_ , fuck, how does Sakura _do this_ every day without falling apart?

Shisui loves his soulmate. He loves her so much he’s going to become a kick-ass medic just to prove to the world that she’s _that_ great because she could make _him_ this good through the bond alone.

“Ita-chan, you know your lungs are, like, really messed up, right?” Shisui asks him as he pumps chakra into his chest. It’s a learning curve and also kind of disorienting at first, because while _apparently_ it’s not normal to feel like you have a CT scanner in your head as you heal, it’s a reality he has to live with because it’s normal for Sakura, so he puts on his big boy vests and powers on.

He _really, really, really_ loves Sakura.

Sakura is smart and kind and funny and beautiful and so, so, so powerful sometimes it makes his heart hurt because he didn’t think he had the physical capacity to love someone like this _ever_ until he woke up with her essence burned into his bones. 

They say soulmates are your other half: they complete you, they balance out your flaws, they make you realize your potential. But it’s not _like_ that with Sakura. She isn’t some sort of heaven-crafted divine intervention meant to seal the cracks of his mind with gold; he doesn’t expect her to fix him - he doesn’t expect her to do _anything_ \- he just wants her to _be_ the same way she wants him to just _be_. He looks at her and feels like sunlight is running through his veins; hugs her and thinks _this is what the universe feels like, holding the stars_ ; talks to her until the hours run into days and he’s unbound by time and space and reality, just her eyes and laugh and the hand cradling his jaw; watches her fight and heal and laugh and cry and sleep and wonders how he was so fortunate to have been born to witness this supernova on Earth.

Shisui loves Sakura the same way entropy works. There will always be a _before_ and an _after_ and now that they’re in the after there’s no going back. Every day he will wake up and realize he loves her more than the day before and he will love her even more the day after and _that_ is what keeps him going.

Also watching her get annoyed at him, that also keeps him going.

“Shisui,” Itachi rasps, not quite looking like death warmed over; more like death microwaved something left in the freezer past its expiration date. 

“Yes, Ita-chan?”

“Get out of my lungs and get me my antibiotics.”

Two weeks down, six more to go.


	2. possessive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: late and zero fucks given, I truly have no idea what's going on in this fic anymore lmfao. No edits we die like men I say as if I'm not going to look over this in the morning and edit it lmfaoooo.
> 
> I don't own Naruto.

"This is reprehensible," Itachi says, wrinkling his nose in the most Uchiha-approved way possible. He moves to pick up the mug in question, flinching when a kunai zips through the air and embeds itself in the wall. "Sakura-san is going to be mad."

"Don't touch the mug!" Shisui exclaims, pushing his cousin into one of the seats on the visitor side of the desk and fretting over the mug. Itachi watches in complete silence as Shisui twists and turns the mug until the handle is exactly in the position it was before.

"There is _mold_ growing in that, Shisui."

"It kinda reminds me of your lungs from when you had the fucking _bubonic plague_. Remember that? I do."

Itachi scowls, but internally, because he doesn't have the facial muscles to do that externally. "Entirely your fault, may I remind you. If you had listened to me regarding-"

"Itachi," Shisui cuts him off, paling so rapidly he briefly wonders which of his arteries have been severed, pointing to a spot on Sakura's desk between the apple core on its way to achieving sentience and a pile of dead pens. "Where did it go?"

"Sakura-san's sense of cleanliness and order went with her to Kumo, if that is what you are wondering."

"No, the shuriken! There was a shuriken here, where did it go?"

Now that he looks closer, there _are_ two little nicks in the wood exactly 4.95 inches apart…

"Perhaps she took it with her to Kumo?" Itachi suggests.

"No way she took it with her to Kumo, one of the points is broken off and the rest of it is chipped to shit." Darkness falls over Shisui's face; for a second Itachi _swears_ his Mangekyo swirls to life. This either means somebody is going to die, or somebody is going to _wish_ they were dead, and judging by how Shisui's hands are twitching towards his ANBU-issued tanto it's probably the former.

Itachi sighs, rubbing his temples to ward off the impending headache. They'd _just_ hit a new 'no terrorizing people with the Tsukiyomi' streak, too.

"Alright!" Shisui slams his fist into his open palm, eerily determined. Itachi takes a second to wonder what atrocities he'd committed in a past life to get _Shisui_ as a cousin. Having to put up with his insane whimsies is retribution for war crimes. It has to be.

"We're gonna find the shuriken! I'll make it a mission! No, better yet, I'll file it under the Police Force, so this way we have exclusive rights over the mission!"

"Shisui, you have a hospital to run."

"I'm Shunshin no Shisui, you think I can't do both? Anyway, you can't order me around, Plague Boy. I'm your superior. Hey, ow, Itachi! We agreed, no Amaterasu in the hospital, dammit, stop burning off my eyebrows!"

* * *

"Is Konoha too poor to equip their shinobi with new tools? Or do they have you reuse damaged weapons until you die due to lack of oversight?"

Sakura doesn't look up from where she's running her blot test, instead waving to the stool next to her. "Why don't you take a seat, C? I'm sure your ass is doing just fine after treatment from the Kumo medics."

C doesn't take the proffered seat.

"I think I'll stand, thank you. Can't be growing compliant in the presence of a _Konoha dog_ ," C sneers.

"That's Konoha _bitch_ , _thank you_ ," Sakura replies primly, measuring out the appropriate volume of ethidium bromide for staining. There's nothing more satisfying on this planet than running a perfect gel. Nothing. Not even getting Naruto to eat his vegetables, or getting Kakashi to voluntarily come in for his check-ups. The latter has never happened but when it does in her dreams she wakes up _very fucking happy_.

Her eyes flick to the damaged shuriken embedded in her desk. Okay, well, there is _one_ thing more satisfying than running a perfect gel, but she'll have to wait a month to experience it first-hand.

If Tsunade's reports are anything to go by, Shisui's doing a bang-up job of running the hospital. His response times are record-breaking, patient satisfaction is the highest it's ever been, and the newbies are learning all sorts of diagnostic short-cuts under his careful Sharingan. Sure, he mouth-pipettes ( _what did she say - that's right_ ) and teaches newbies to make aerodynamic kunai out of their paperwork and apparently once gave himself a shot of B52 just to see what would happen, but otherwise things are going _great_.

But Sakura _knows better_. Her soul-mark - a delicate black feather etched into her sternum - tingles throughout the day, burning Katon-hot when she turns in for the night. Shisui's doing okay on the _surface_ , but this is the first time since their marks showed that they've been separated longer than a week. She wonders if his soulmark, a twin to her own that lies on the nape of his neck, burns in the middle of procedures when she misses him (and she misses him _often_ ). Shisui deals with his emotions much the same way she does: masking them with something much more socially acceptable until he's alone to break.

They both break under the cover of the moon. At least that's one thing uniting them countries apart.

So, yes, Shisui's doing great just like Sakura's doing great.

Sakura shakes her head, holding up her gel and frowning. Why the hell is it so _streaky_?

C guffaws. "Haruno, did you seriously try and run a _Southern blot_ on _RNA_?"

"Oh, gosh, C, you're right. Maybe I should go _burn the gel_. Would you like to come watch or do you need to recover from last time?"

* * *

Getting Kakashi to attend his monthly checkup involves the combined efforts of Itachi and Shisui, their summons, several illegal jutsu, and one of the most finicky genjutsu either of the two have ever had to bullshit last minute.

_How does Sakura do this every month? How?_

"Maa, are you done, Shisui?"

"No, why do you ask, Kakashi?"

"Because you've got that look on your face. The one that says 'I'm thinking about Sakura', so I assume you're done," Kakashi explains.

"Kakashi, when will you figure it out? I'm always thinking of Sakura," Shisui says unabashedly, running the Mystical Palm over Kakashi's Sharingan. He loses himself in reducing the inflammation of the optic nerve while his mind wanders to cloudy skies and pink hair.

What's Sakura up to? Her letters are short and messy and Shisui might not be a Nara, but he _is_ still an Uchiha so he can read between the lines. She's miserable, the weather has her hair looking like his, C won't stop trying to get her to start another war, whatever virus they're trying to develop a treatment for is keeping her up at night, and she _misses_ him.

That last part isn't between any lines, but the way his neck is tingling right now says it all.

"Hey, Kakashi, you haven't been in Sakura's office lately, have you?" Shisui asks suddenly. While _he's_ notorious for being attached to Sakura's hip like one of her weapons pouches, _Team 7_ is notorious for invading everything she even remotely considers sacred, up to and including her office and the locker she doesn't really use for anything other than emergency snack storage. Maybe they've seen the shuriken - or taken the shuriken, which means he may or may not have to commit a little homicide.

"Shisui, you _and_ Itachi had to _assault_ -"

"This doesn't meet the technical definition for assault," Itachi pipes up from the corner where he's reading today's paper.

"It absolutely does, anyway you both had to assault me to drag me to the hospital. What makes you think I come here of my own volition?"

Shisui shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I dunno, but the shuriken on her desk is missing and I need to find it."

"Have you considered that she took it with her to Kumo?"

"That's what I said," Itachi mutters.

"Shut up, Plague Boy. Anyway, she wouldn't have. It...means a lot."

Kakashi blinks owlishly. "Shisui, if this is the shuriken I'm _thinking_ of, then, politely, what the hell."

"You don't understand our love," Shisui bemoans.

"Oh, look, Shisui. I told you investing in those stocks last week would pay off," Itachi says. "An entire three point increase."

Kakashi is very upset to find that there's no self-administered morphine drip this time.

* * *

Sakura is on a warpath. There's nothing particularly special about that because Sakura goes on a warpath about three times a day, but she's on a warpath in _Kumo_ , and since they're not used to seeing her stomp down the hall with hell hot on her heels it's understandably a little alarming.

"Where's my shuriken," she grits out, coming to a stop next to C, who looks down at the cracks her footsteps left on her way over derisively.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment," he sniffs, flipping through the file in his hands. Sakura goes on her tippy-toes (yes, she's five-foot even and yes, she does this often) to peek at the charts. She manages to catch a glimpse of the term 'colchicine poisoning' on file before C snaps it shut, but by the time he opens his mouth to admonish her, she's got her hands on the patient's torso, clearing out the poison.

Cocking her hip, she meets C's cold gaze defiantly. " _Shuriken_."

"This feels great," the patient says dreamily, "Wow, your chakra is soothing…"

C scowls. "One of the trainee medics might have thrown it out given it's garbage. How am I supposed to know?"

"C, if we don't find that shuriken by the end of day today, I have about three neurotoxins I reverse engineered that need testing. I don't have a cure on hand, so you'll serve as my guinea pig for that," Sakura threatens.

"I'll be your guinea pig if it means you keep this up," the patient says. C jacks up the morphine drip until the patient is _really_ out of it; Sakura should protest because ethics and patient care and drug crisis and about a million other things, but she's seething and her chest hurts.

"Fine. We'll look for your stupid shuriken. One condition."

"Name it."

"You stay here an extra two weeks."

Sakura doesn't hesitate as she says, "Done."

* * *

_I'll be here for an extra two weeks, something came up. Also, stop calling Itachi 'Plague Boy', he's very upset about it._

_Love you._

"What's got _his_ panties in a twist?" Genma asks.

"Sakura's shuriken is missing. Oh, and she's also in Kumo for an extra two weeks," Itachi answers, flipping through the sudoku booklet Mikoto got him as part of a 'get-well-soon' package' that included crossword puzzles, a book on calculus-based shurikenjutsu, and a colour-by-numbers.

"Oh, gross, she's stuck there even longer? I wonder what came up…"

"The virus they are dealing with is likely taking longer to deal with than anticipated is all."

"Or she started an international incident again."

"Equally plausible."

Shisui pops up from behind Sakura's desk, glaring at the both of them. "Okay, Plague Boy's here because he's basically an extension of my body at this point, but why are _you_ lot here?"

"I'm avoiding paperwork," Genma volunteers.

"Bored," Naruto yawns. Beside him, Sasuke grunts in agreement. The both of them are on their fifth game of chopsticks, with Naruto in the lead.

Rolling his eyes, Shisui ducks back under the desk and resumes going through Sakura's trash can. It's not been changed in a week, so it's not like anybody came and got rid of the trash or anything - mind you, he would throw all medic vows out the window if they did - so it's probably in here. Maybe it got knocked in in her haste to pack?

"Dude, I'm telling you, she took it with her to Kumo," Naruto says sagely, beating Sasuke with a three-fingered tap to his two-fingered right hand. Sasuke snarls wordlessly, flexing all ten fingers again as they gear up for round six.

"Why would she take it with her to Kumo? It makes no sense," Shisui snaps, rummaging through the garbage. Founders, how much takeout does she _eat_? There are more receipts in here than he thinks he's seen in a year. He squints at one of them. Oh, wait, no, this was him, Sakura doesn't eat mushrooms.

"I mean, if she's half as possessive about it as you are then it stands to reason she took it with her." Sasuke wrinkles his nose, something that puts one of those 'I-don't-disapprove-but-what-would-father-say' looks on Itachi's face that is very easily mistaken for constipation. "She's sentimental like that."

"It's not - I'm not possessive, okay? That shuriken just…means a lot to us."

Yes, it's damaged and useless and a bit of an eyesore if he's being honest, but that shuriken is the only thing that survived their first ever fight, the one they had right after their marks appeared. Sakura had been so _pissed_ \- if he closes his eyes he can still see the Forest of Death reflected in the green of her eyes as she surged for him, fist glowing blue. In between a flurry of weapons and jutsu half-invented on the spot, Sakura told him.

She told him she was _furious_ her choice in the matter had been taken from her; marrying one of the legendary scions of the Uchiha family meant that everything she'd worked for was going to be swept down the drain - she'd seen it happen with too many of her Clan friends and she was _not_ about to let that happen when she'd had so much left to give the world.

Shisui - fuck, Shisui was _also_ pissed because what the hell was she thinking? She's Haruno-fucking-Sakura and he's been half in love with her since before he knew her _name_ , of the course the only thing he's going to do is stand next to her when his Clan inevitably tries to get her to settle down, it's not a choice. _Breathing_ is more of a choice than watching her wither. He told her as much, and she didn't believe him until their surroundings were blown up and in flames and he dropped to his knees in surrender as that shuriken flew for his face.

Sakura caught it in one hand, snapping a point off, and the rest is history.

"And it obviously means a lot to her, which is why she took it with her. She's got a professional reputation to maintain so she can't bring photographs and the like to her lab, so it stands to reason that she took the one thing that was innocuous enough to remind herself of you," Genma says thoughtfully.

Shisui gets up from behind the desk, eyebrows shot up behind his forehead protector, as Itachi lowers his newspaper and Naruto and Sasuke pause their game to pin him with the most shocked expression either of them can muster: Sasuke's jaw even goes just the tiniest bit slacked.

"You all know I was rookie of the year for my year, right? _And_ I did an internship with T&I when Ibiki was just starting up? I'm not an idiot." Genma crosses his arms defensively.

" _You_ were rookie of the year?" Sasuke deadpans. " _You_?"

"I was on the Hokage Guard Platoon, do you think they take just _anyone_ for that position?"

"Itachi's on Tsunade's platoon, so, yes."

* * *

_Sakura-san, I write this letter only to ask that you tell Shisui you took that shuriken with you. He's been causing a slight uproar in the hospital, and I doubt Hokage-sama would appreciate having to step in if he goes through the incinerator on the job. Or at any point in time - Moegi-san is still, understandably, very traumatized._

_Additionally, if you could continue to ask him to refrain from calling me 'Plague Boy', it would be greatly appreciated._

_Kindest regards,_

_Itachi_

Sakura toys with the broken edge of her shuriken as she reads the letter. It's late at night, much too late for anybody but herself to be in the lab, which means it's _just_ late enough that her mark is burning and she's free to trace it with soothing chakra with nobody around to notice.

She'll have to write two apology notes tomorrow: one to C for making him dumpster dive for the shuriken, and one to Shisui for forgetting to let him know she took it with her. In retrospect it's downright _embarrassing_ how she lost her mind when it went missing. She's representing more than just _Konoha_ here; her own reputation is at stake, but all those thoughts went flying out the window when she came in to start her Northern blot and found the shuriken gone.

Sakura has very few material possessions she deeply values in her life, and none of them are particularly pricey or in good condition: the frayed red ribbon Ino gave her as a child; her first forehead protector, dented beyond repair from when she headbutted Orochimaru in the Forest of Death to save Sasuke; gloves covered in Sasori's poison; and this shuriken she holds close to her heart.

Yes, an apology note is in order.

Her mark tingles faintly in response. _Come home._

The timer beeps, signalling the end of the Northern blot x-ray development. Sakura tucks the shuriken under her shirt - she's got it on a necklace now, no second chances - and heads for the dark room, wondering what Shisui's up to right about now. Probably annoying Itachi or ordering take-out with a 5:1 mushroom ratio or messing with her filing cabinet. Or maybe he's sleeping in their bed, hugging her pillow close and pretending it's her hair that he's got his nose buried in the same way she falls asleep in his shirts so she can imagine it's his warmth and scent wrapped around her.

His mark is probably burning Amaterasu-hot right now.

Sakura holds up the developed x-ray and groans, slamming her head into the wall so hard it cracks. No fucking _wonder_ that asshole asked for an extra two weeks.

Mutated measles, _really_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was gonna make it mutated Marburg but here we are.
> 
> Vaccinate your kids btw.
> 
> Please review!
> 
> -Eien

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I tried my best to channel the chaos of 2009 crackfics here but I fear I didn't do it justice. Oh well. Thank you pyro for the summary and my life with medic!Shisui.
> 
> WHEN I SAY KAPLAN YOU SAY PHYSICS KAPLAN PHYSICS GIVE ME MENTAL BREAKDOWNS LMFAO
> 
> Review please. Also let me know in a review if you want the link to a multisaku discord server yeet.
> 
> -Eien


End file.
